When It's All Said and Done: A Timeless Story
by chancexxnxxlove
Summary: Hermione can't help but feel useless after the war. She knows he feels the same. Too bad he's so gaurded, she'd really like to reach out to him. If only she knew him before his heart and soul became so torn. HG/SS. Doesn't comply w/books. Snape Lives!


**Hello everyone! Please read and possibly enjoy this fic and leave any comments you deem necessary. Good or bad, I'd appreciate any constructive criticism. Although, this is my first fic, so please, be kind. Thank you.**

**This is chapter one. It contains excerpts from Hermiones journal. The story will eventually lead into that of a narrative/3rd person. And probably back to her journal. Or Snapes journal. Who knows. :)**

**When It's All Said and Done: A Timeless Story-Chapter One.**

9:00p.m. Oct. 15th.

It's unusual seeing you up and out of the dungeons. But it's nice. The October breeze blowing through your hair must be a welcoming feeling for you. I'd say being bed ridden for months on end calls for some fresh air. You sit on the same step as I. You take a deep breath and I know you're lost in thought.

You don't see me yet, but it's okay. I'd like to watch you for a bit from this distance, if you don't mind. But I guess if you don't know I'm here, you couldn't possibly mind. I'll just keep quiet and keep the scratching of my quill to a minimum.

Sitting on these steps, hidden in the shadow of the castle walls, the smell of the damp, cold ground, it's nice, isn't it? Of course, if shadows and dampness was what you were looking for, you could have just saved the trip and stayed in the dungeons. But, no. You're looking for something more. I have a feeling I know. I'm looking for the same thing. Who would have thought after winning this war against the Dark Lord we'd feel so lonely and forgotten? Shouldn't we be happy? Grieve for those lost, but celebrate our freedom? I'm sure that's what one does after such a bitter sweet victory.

I can only guess about you. But as for me, I'm not too sure. In order to live a happy and fulfilled life, one needs friends and family and some sort of structure of support. Of course, I've got Harry. He's my best friend. Through everything, he has been my stability and I'd be even more lost than I am without him. But he has Ginny and they have a future to be working on. And little old lonely Hermione would just be in the way. Of course, Harry would never say that, but I've seen the way Ginny looks at me from across the table in the Great Hall. I know ever since Ron and I have agreed to just stay friends that Ginny hasn't been too pleased with my presence. I understand. Blood is thicker than water and I'm guessing in her eye's I've done wrong.

But Ron doesn't seem too bothered by our friendship status. And neither does Lavender. But that's a different story entirely. Plus, the less I see her name written in my journal, the less I want to take it and throw it in the flames and-

You sigh and I jerk suddenly. After dropping my quill and picking it up quickly, I look back to you, hoping and praying to any god that may be listening that you didn't hear the patter of the quill landing on the step below me, the rustling of my robes as I made the quick grab for it.

You tuck a strand of your long black hair behind your ear, but the wind just blows it out of place. You sigh as if such a small thing had defeated you and I don't like it one bit. It's not like you to give up so easily. You're a man of power! Of dark and intimidating grace! Show that lock of hair what you're made of!

I just read over that last bit and I'm comfortable enough with myself now to be able to acknowledge just how dumb that was. Still, I wish you'd put that hair back. Because that's where you want it and I want you to have everything you want. As absurd as it may be, you deserve everything you seek in life. I know you don't feel that way. I know your soul is worn down and your heart heavy for what you had to do to Dumbledore. But the memories from Harry had cleared your name. You're a free man and you should be able to move on with your life. Perhaps you need to get away from here. Get some distance. Maybe.

Or maybe this is exactly where you need to be. Maybe there's just something missing. You're lonely, just like me. That I can understand. Wish there was something I could do for-

"Miss Granger," Snape drawls. "Perhaps you could stop that infuriating scraping and just say your thoughts aloud?"

I jump, startled that you had actually spoke, and I catch myself before dropping my journal to the wet ground. I clear my throat and look to you. You smirk like you knew I was going to put on that little show. I'm so glad you're amused.

"After years of trying to get me to shut up, sir, I'm quite surprised you're encouraging me to voice my thoughts." I close my journal for now and tuck it and my quill into my bag along with my books and other random things I find necessary to have on me at all times. Thank the gods for the bottomless bag spell.

Setting the bag back down, I move from the shadow and more towards you and sit back down. I'll be sure to write about what happens from here on later tonight.

9:30p.m. Oct. 15th.

I recall our conversation exactly.

"As if my efforts for your silence have not been in vain, Miss Granger, I'm sure you still ramble off the many bits of useless knowledge in that skull of yours at any given chance."

I laugh and you looked surprised. Something like that coming from you anytime before would have sent me running to the girl's room. I straighten out my robes and stand, stepping a few steps from where you sit. Turning around, I look back to you.

"Professor, believe it or not, I'm not as foolish as I once was." I look down to the ground after realizing it must seem like I'm staring. Would you believe that I've found something much more interesting to look at on the ground than to look at you? With your level of self-confidence, I'm sure you would. "I've learned that keeping ones knowledge to themselves is a life saving strategy."

Your eyes dart to mine and I know what you're thinking. I immediately regret saying that. I know you're feeling guilty about my night at Malfoy Manor. Your hand slowly creeps up to your throat and starts rubbing the area through the layers of your clothing. I know you do this at times when you're remembering things or feeling guilty for your actions. I know that rubbing at those scars won't take away what's happened, too. And I do know about those scars, sir. Not many people have seen them, aside from Madam Pomfrey and a few others. But I'm the one who found you, sir. I'm the one who refused to believe you as dead. Just because you weren't breathing didn't mean for us to give up on you. Do you hate me for making them stay with you? For making them work with you? Do you wish you were dead?

You stop rubbing when you see me staring. Clasping your hands in your lap, you look to me like you want to say something. You don't need to explain yourself to me, sir.

After what seems like forever, you reply. "Indeed, Miss Granger."

Sighing, you slowly stand and walk towards me. You stop a mere foot away and I feel your robe brush my hand in the breeze. You're looking up at the sky beyond the forest trees and I use this time to look at you in the better lighting. The moon shines on your pale, almost transluctant skin, and I try to predict what hex you'd launch at me if I were to call you beautiful right now.

"You're lonely, sir." I whisper, barely audible, but of course you hear me. You're an ex-spy for Merlin's sake.

"Miss Granger," you hiss and I step back, knowing I've crossed some line. "This is hardly an appropriate subject between us and I'm sure you know all the same that of course I'm lonely. But don't think for one minute that I will stand here and let you pity me. Those memories you've seen from Potter were mine and mine alone and I'd appreciate it greatly if you'd let them alone and you'd do well to forget them!"

You turn and in a billow of robes I feel the warmth of you once standing next to me deplete. Without much thought I run to you, needing to jog to catch up to your long strides.

"Sir! Sir, just wait one moment." I reach out to you and I'm barely able to grasp a bit of your cloak. You feel the slight tug of resistance and stop. Looking over your shoulder you see me and I must look like some beggar. I realize this and let go of the cloth and look down. "Professor Snape, I don't mean to point out any faults, I was merely making an observation. And truth is, sir, I'm lonely, too. Harry and Ron have moved on. My parents don't know who I am…" I trail off, not wanting to finish the thought. "The thing is, I don't feel like I have any meaning anymore. And I know you understand this!"

You look away, back towards the castle, but I know my words are sinking in. I get a feeling of determination and continue.

"The war is over, sir. What do we do now? Do you go back to teaching? Is that what you want? Do I go to a university? Continue my education? Is that what I really want? I feel like there is just nothing left to do. And again, I know you understand this."

You sigh and turn back to me. Your eyebrows are burrowed together and I know you're thinking. You cross your arms over your chest and consider what to say next.

"What makes you think you know me so well, Miss Granger?" I see in your eyes your emotions are tumbling, fighting, and any moment now one will come forward and that will be the decision on whether this conversation continues or if you walk away and leave me all the more alone. "Are you so much as suggesting that maybe this isn't the way I want things to be? Maybe I want to be left alone, maybe I don't want little insufferable know it all chits meddling in my affairs and the way I live!"

Apparently anger had won over and I'm unsure of how to continue. I half expected you to walk away after that last bit, but you still stand there and look me straight in the eyes. I shift from one foot to the other. I decide to be patient for once and see how you act.

You let out a breath like you've been holding it for all of eternity. I see your arms tighten across your chest and I'm realizing all the more that you are so very insecure with yourself. I wish you'd see how brilliant you are. People in your life have failed severely in showing you how important you are.

"Miss Granger," you start. I look at you and I can see by the lines in your face that this was coming to a close. I just did an amazing job at possibly pushing the only person that could understand me further away than they were to begin with. "Please, see yourself into the castle as it is getting late and curfew will be falling upon us shortly."

I silently follow you inside wishing upon everything that we could have just sat on that step just a bit longer.

That was almost an hour ago and as I sit here in my bed, finishing up my journal entry, I'm realizing that everything society is offering you today, sir, is not what you want. Or need, for that matter. They call you a hero. They praise you for all the bravery you've shown and all the deeds you've done all for the Greater Good. But will they be there when you need someone to talk to? Someone to hold? You won't admit it, but everyone needs someone. What you need is a friend. But it's too late for that, isn't it? After a life like yours, I understand you being guarded and not letting anyone in.

If only, sir, I could have known you in your younger years. I would have been that friend. If only I could have been there for those times you could have really used a friend. If only-

11:45p.m. Oct. 15th.

Yes! Who would have known?

I went to Dumbledores office. I went in with the heaviest feeling in my stomach. But I went in and looked around. Everything was exactly the same as I remembered it. His dish of Lemon Drops, half full, sitting on his desk. And his books, oh it was a chore to not go up to his many bookshelves and start reading right there. Everything was the same and I was hit with the strongest feeling of sadness. He wouldn't be back, how dare they keep his things here like some museum? Why leave all his things here to collect dust? I sat in his chair and looked at his desk.

I know I was reaching for straws being here. I'm almost kidding myself to believe it would still be here. Once I returned it in my third year, it was returned to the Ministry. Wasn't it? And the Ministry of Magic was destroyed by Harry, the D.A., and the Death Eaters. Everything inside was ruined. But this is me and my wishful thinking, hoping that the Headmaster might have forgotten to return it is ludicrous. Even if he had, the Ministry would have come to him for it. Right?

Just to prove myself wrong, to show myself that this was, indeed, wishful thinking, I opened the top drawer in the desk. There were papers and documents in every language imaginable. A stapler, paper clips, paper clips? Why would Dumbledore have paper clips? And a stapler? Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans scattered everywhere and a jar in the shape of a bear that seemed to be filled with honey.

I set all that on top the desk and looked further back into the drawer. It seemed like he crammed all the random things of his life into this one drawer. I pulled out a sling shot and set it with the ever growing pile of things. After about another ten minutes or so, I had given up. Being the last thing I found was a photo of the muggle popstar, Clay Aiken.

I put all the things back into the drawer with one swift motion of my wand and leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes with a sigh. What a waste of time and pent up emotions.

Upon opening my eyes, I see that the desk has not been cleared, in fact. There were two items setting side by side that have not been there, before or after my clearing of the desk drawer. A blue velvet draw string bag and an envelope. Turning the envelope over I am quite alarmed to find that it has Professor Dumbledores seal. I turn my attention to the bag and slowly open it, turning it upside down and spilling its contents out on the desk.

Link by link, the gold necklace falls out, ending when my old time turner softly lands on it's chain. Without hesitation I hurriedly open then envelope. Reading it's contents.

_I do believe 34 spins should be plenty, Miss Granger. Have a safe journey._


End file.
